


would that really be so bad?

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Comics
Genre: First Dance, First Kiss, Fluff, Gaybies, M/M, SteveTony, Stony - Freeform, dance, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: there is a reason i don’t write fluff
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	would that really be so bad?

**Author's Note:**

> there is a reason i don’t write fluff

He looks out of the window, resting his head on the cold glass. His hair falls over his face, almost covering his eyes. A piece of paper lies on the table next to him. He’s holding the pencil and tapping it against the wall.  _ It’s something he does often _ , Tony notices,  _ usually when he’s reminiscing on his past, and reflecting on everything he’s missed_. Tony can’t help but stare at the drawing, every single detail captured in lifelike precision. If he’d didn’t know better, he’d assume it was a photograph. 

“I never got that last dance,” Steve murmurs, lifting his head, tears threatening to fall. 

“Huh?” Tony responds, cocking his head to one side. 

“With Peggy. I never got to dance with her.” He’s miles away now, his eyes clouded with memories, looking off into the distance as if he’ll see her there. 

Tony smiles sadly. Sometimes he wishes steve would just see him there, instead of dwelling on what’d never be. He resists a bitter laugh, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.  _ Why’d he have to fall for the one person he knew couldn’t love him back?  _

“I’m not Peggy. but maybe I could dance with you?”

Steve says nothing.  _Wow, way to screw it up, Stark_ _,_ Tony thinks to himself. Steve smirks a little to himself. 

“Steve?”

“Oh... yeah, sorry. Just... thinking.” He turns to Tony, the smirk still playing on his face. “I would love a dance.”

Tony fights a childish grin creeping across his face. 

“Jarvis, play—“

“Jarvis, play ‘ _It’s Been a Long, Long Time_ ,’” Steve cuts in. 

Tony raises an eyebrow. 

“If gonna dance with me, Stark, you’re gonna dance to  my music.”

Tony rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “It’s the twenty-first century, Rogers.” 

Steve laughs, his eyes glistening. 

“What? Is technology and, you know... modern stuff... really that bad?”

“Kind of...” Steve trails off. Tony shakes his head. This conversation could go on for hours. 

“Are we gonna dance or not?” 

Steve says nothing, but wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, pulling him in. tony places a hand on his shoulder. He can feel Steve’s chest rise and fall against his hand, can feel his own pulse rise. It’s almost as if the world is moving in slow-motion, every second a year, every breath, every heartbeat...

“Kiss me once, kiss me twice. then kiss me once again.” Steve’s mumble-singing along to the lyrics. His voice is low and gravelly, the notes coming from his throat off-key, and it clashes with the sultry, smooth voice of the singer on the record. 

“Rogers, anyone ever tell you that you can’t sing?” Tony laughs teasingly. 

“Sorry, Stark. not all of us had fancy voice lessons at private school,” Steve shoots back. 

“Never had singing lessons.”

“Yoy played an instrument?”

“No.” Tony‘s reply is almost instant. he stiffens up, his eyes widen, his hand loosens on Steve’s back. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Only around guys I like.” 

“So you like me, huh?”

“Maybe. Would that be so bad?” One side of Tony’s mouth quirks up a little, one eyebrow cocked. 

Steve rests his forehead against Tony’s. He can feel Tony’s light breathing against his face, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. Their lips meet, Steve’s hands around Tony’s waist, Tony’s entangled in Steve’s hair. Time seems to slow down and speed up at the same time, nothing existing in that moment but that kiss. Nothing matters, not Peggy, or the Avengers, or the fact that they’ve been tangled together so long that they’re running out of air to breathe.  _ Oxygen’s overrated, anyway.  _

They finally break off. 

“So, what instrument did you play?”

“Rogers, did you kiss me just to ask me that?”

“Maybe.” Steve purses his lips. 

Tony laughs, and rests his head against Steve’s chest. “Fine,” he mumbles into him, “I was in jazz band. I played the trumpet. I... I still do.”

“You’re adorable.” Steve smiles down at him, running a hand through his hair. 

“Fuck off.”

“Language.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Dear Sir Rogers, Kindly fuck off. Sincerely, your dear Tony Stark.”

Steve smirks. 

“Really, Stev-io? You have nothing to say to my glorious wit?”

Steve ducks his head, a pink glow blooming on his face. 

“Damn. You really do like me, huh?” Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to seem calm, but his hand’s shaking and his heart’s racing and he can’t keep the coy smile off his face. 

“Would that really be so bad?” Steve’s mouth quirked up the same way Tony’s had before. 

Tony’s pauses, gazing into Steve’s steely, ice blue eyes.  _ Yes, _he tells himself,  _ love never ends well for people like us. _But the longer he stares up at Steve, the more he’s drowning, free-falling through the abyss. 

“No.”


End file.
